The 61st Games

She woke up screaming. This had happened several times over the past few years and Haymitch was well prepared. He crawled into her bed and pulled her tightly to his chest. After she had calmed down he handed her a silver flask from her bedside table. She drank it all down before thanking him.

"I can't get his face out of my head," she whispered.

He sighed. "They'll never really go away. We just have to keep doing what we've been doing."

She sniffed. "I'm surprised you keep helping me."

He paused for a moment as she wiped fallen tears from her face. "I don't like being alone. I've been alone for a while with my own nightmares. It's nice to share the burden with someone else." She laughed a little and snuggled into him.

They woke the next morning when their Capitol Escort, a wizened old man in bright canary yellow walked into the room. "Another nightmare?"

Jeanetty nodded as she sat up and reached to calm her jolted housemate. "You know, Cararo, a call works just as well."

"But not nearly as fun. Now get up. Reaping starts soon."

The duo sighed and got ready for their mentoring duty. The day going in the same routine as they had the last 7 years. They met Cararo and the Tributes on the train. Haymitch, already half drunk, poured himself another drink as they were introduced to their new Capitol Escort: Effie Trinket. Her bright pink dress nearly blinded Jeanetty.

The two Tributes this year were a weepy 12 year old boy and a stoic 13 year old girl. As Haymitch explained what was going to happen to them once they reached the Capitol, Jeanetty robotically soothed the young boy in her lap. After so many years meeting and losing Tributes to the Games, she had become numb to their suffering. She hadn't watched the Games since her own. The horrors crept up on her in a waking nightmare.

As the sun set on the train, Jeanetty brought the boy to his quarters. When she returned to the dining car, Haymitch handed her a drink, which she knocked back quickly. "Been waiting for that since we boarded, huh?"

Jeanetty nodded as she filled her glass again.

Effie looked at her curiously. "Does she ever speak?"

"Only in whispers," Jeanetty whispered as she sat down next to the window across from the other woman.

"Jeanetty can hardly speak. Her vocal chords were damaged when she won her Games. So she whispers," Haymitch said as he sat next to his fellow Mentor with his own glass.

"Effie will be shadowing me this year," Cararo said to the pair. "Next year she'll takeover for me as your Escort to the Capitol."

"Do call before you come waltzing into our house. Coming in unannounced has dangerous repercussions," Jeanetty whispered to the new Escort. Effie laughed and the conversation continued.

The next afternoon they reached the Capitol. The boy has started crying again as he was led away to be groomed. The girl went quietly, already having broken down that morning.

A week passed. Personal training day arrived and Jeanetty took the boy to a private ring. She still didn't know his name but he had toughened up over the little while she had known him. She worked him hard, knowing he was only going to die anyway.

"Why don't you ever just talk?"

Jeanetty was started by the question. "I have no voice. I can't 'just talk'."

"Did you lose it when you won your Games?"

"Yes. I took advantage of my opponents head injury and exploited it. It cost me the use of my voice, but it won me the Game."

"Do you think I can win?"

"No." The boy started. "You ask too many irrelevant questions and have very few offensive actions. You haven't the drive to kill, though I do feel you will evade most of your enemies. You may even make it to the final few. But the Gamemakers will more than likely create something that will kill you should you get that far."

The boy stared at her in shock before his face began to mottle. "I'll show you! I can too win! I'm going to be the youngest winner ever!" He ran out of the ring, leaving her alone.

She made her way back to the twelfth floor of tribute tower, where Haymitch was already drinking. "I take it the boy started crying?"

"He asked me if he could win."

"And you told him the truth..."

"... I didn't tell him if he won they would kill his family." Jeanetty spoke softly, her voice was smooth and low with years of intermitant use, as she poured herself a small glass. Memories flooded the duo of their own familial losses. "He will lose regardless. No one wins from the outlying regions."

"We pay the price for our winnings."

"Indeed." She sat beside him with her drink. "Perhaps, it would have been better in the long run, to have died in the arena."

"Hindsight's 20/20," Haymitch said wrapping his arm around her. "What colors are you doing this year?"

Since her first year as a Mentor, Jeanetty had filled her hands with knitting needles during the Games. This kept her busy enough not to watch. She made a scarf for each of the Tributes and presented them to their families. "He's scared and stupid, but he's still young: shades of blue. She's got a good head on her shoulders and a decent sword arm: Green, maybe bits of yellow."

"Yellow's good. Distracts from the blood." The pair shared a sardonic laugh and clinked their glasses.

The next day Jeanetty bade the boy farewell. He only looked at her as though he didn't really see her. "Hey!" She snapped him out of it with a loud whisper. "Remember what you've learned. Don't run into the Bloodbath. Wait to grab a weapon. Find water, it's your new best friend. Guard it well." She paused to make sure he was listening, then reached out and grabbed his shoulder. "Good luck."

She left him to enter the carrier ship that would take him to the arena. She made her way back into the Tower to wait, knitting as she did so.

As night fell, Haymitch and the others came back from the Sponsor Floor. "The boy's dead."

"Idiot probably ran into the Bloodbath," Jeanetty whispered, not looking up from her work as Cararo sat next to her.

"How'd you know," he asked fingering the light blue scarf.

"Because I told him not to. What do you think? Should I add stars?"

"I think it's lovely. Only nine died today, I'm surprised."

"Yes, usually more than half are dead by now," Effie said cheerfully.

"Anyone think the kids may be getting smarter?" Haymitch sat on Jeanetty's other side.

"Not likely," she and Cararo answered simultaneously. Cararo continued. "They all want to bring glory to their District."

"Winning the Games is the only way to do that," Effie said as she straightened her skirt and sat across from the trio.

"Someone shut her up," Haymitch said taking a drink.

Jeanetty sighed and put her knitting on the table. "I do think it's bed time. Good night, all." She went to her room, changed, and curled up into her bed, a knife handle within reach.

Sometime later she felt the bed dip with weight and a hand softly enclosed her wrist. "Just me, Jeanetty." Haymitch let go of her wrist and curled up behind her. "Can't sleep in this damn city."

"Too loud?"

"Too bright! It's damn near midnight and the whole place is lit up like a second sun."

She laughed and settled back into her pillow.